


When The Sun Needed The Moon

by staringatstars



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Alternate Universe - Transcendence, Baffled Alcor, Body Horror, Gen, Meeting between demons, Slightly insane Mizar, Troublesome triplets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-06
Updated: 2015-09-15
Packaged: 2018-04-07 22:28:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4280277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/staringatstars/pseuds/staringatstars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The triplets (mostly Acacia) don't see anything wrong with trying to summon their mom. After all, their mom's human. What's the worst that could happen?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Lost

Being dead felt a lot like being cotton candy. Without a definable shape or gender, the glimmering spirit coasted through the space between its latest end and its newest beginning. Once it had been a girl in India, a boy raised to worship a powerful demon, and, a few times, it had been a twin, with a brother or a sister that the spirit still loved. Most of its siblings, spouses, and children returned to the reincarnation cycle. They passed by each other, sometimes without recognition. There were times, however, when their energies would overlap, bumping into each other like fish in a stream, and the warm, familiar touch would provoke a shared aura of radiating fondness from the spirits. 

They knew and loved and soon forgot. The reincarnation cycle was not the place for memories from the past. It existed as the unwritten future. 

So the spirit drifted, quite content to be alone until its time to be born again arrived, when the atmosphere suddenly changed. Rather than a noticeable, tangible difference, the spirit merely sensed that something had arrived in its space that did not belong. Something that soured the energy near it, filling it with the chaotic power of potential. The potential for disasters like lightning storms and tsunamis thrummed in the spirit’s space, encroaching on its peace and disrupting its peaceful state. Frightened, the spirit cringed from the disturbance as it began to take shape.

“Hey, toots.” It formed a square, one half-lidded eye making up its entire face. The spirit thrummed experimentally towards it, colors and light feeling out this new presence. 

There was something overwhelmingly powerful and ancient about this new creature. A single word popped into the spirit’s mind. Demon.

 _Bill_ , hissed the spirit in reds and dark purples, throwing the word like a weapon. The demon knew, however, that the spirit was utterly defenseless against it. It shook with glee, eating up the fear and anger it was planting in the formerly blissfully ignorant and docile spirit.

“Sorry, sweetheart, the name’s not Bill. That guy’s long gone. Eaten up by your brother.” A monocle appeared over the bulging eyeball, followed by a tie and a black umbrella. Barely paying attention to the physical changes – what did they matter to a soul? – the spirit reacted to his words, thrumming confusion and shifting from pink to a distressed grey. With thousands of years to sort through, finding the right one was an all-consuming task. One that could take centuries.

Still, the spirit flipped through its past lives, feeling guilt saturate its existence because the demon was watching. Waiting. 

The demon cackled, swinging its umbrella gleefully. Spirits were innocent sheep. Accessing them was difficult, since the universe usually did its best to protect them from mean, nasty demons like him, but this demon was old, much older than the silly flesh sacks that inhabited the Earth, and power came with the experience that came from age. It had rent a hole into the Afterscape, all so it could get its hands on Alcor’s precious sister. His Twin Star. His Mizar.

The demon was young, an upstart, really. But he was a powerful one. For the past six thousand years, they’d tolerated him – tolerated his rules, his threats, his numerous warnings to leave the humans alone. They figured he’d burn himself out at some point, or the humans he loved so much would kill him. Unfortunately, outside forces kept saving him. And more often than not, Mizar was responsible. They clung to each other like barnacles, refusing to bend even to the passing of time.

It was infuriating. 

So, the demon came up with a plan. Why not make it so Alcor never happened? Erase the little punk from the timestream entirely.

And the spirit was more than willing to rise to the bait. “Guess you’re not that great of a sister, after all, Mizar – or is it Mabel? What kind of a sibling forgets their own brother?” The Afterscape swirled, mirroring the spirit’s tumultuous emotions as it zeroed in on one life. One brother.

 _Dipper_ , whispered the spirit, a soft breeze in the space created just for her. She wasn’t indefinable, anymore. No longer the blank page ready for a new life. The demon had made her Mabel again.

_What happened to my brother? What did you do?_

She reared back; all for show really, there was nothing a being of pure energy could do to the culmination of chaos and magic that formed demons. 

The demonic floppy disk waved a hand dismissively, the movement temporarily dispersing everything that was Mabel. Frazzled, she focused on recombining herself as the demon stated airily, “Oh, it wasn’t me. He decided to doom himself to an eternity of misery on his own.” With a wink, he twirled his umbrella and added, “Wanna save him?”

_Save him? How?_

Pieces were coming back to her, a warning rising to the forefront of her mind, a memory, but before she could fully process the thought the demon held out a spindly hand. “Doesn’t matter how, toots. Just shake and I can guarantee that our favorite little meat stick will stay nice and human until the day he dies. Of course,” blue fire enveloped his hand as he pretended to inspect his nails, trying to convince the little sheep in front of him that he was beyond bored, only helping her save her dumb sibling out of the goodness of the black hole he had for a heart, “this is a limited time offer, Shooting Star. In fact, it’s over in three, two, on-“ Psychically, Mabel reached out, curling over the flames in the closest approximation of a handshake she could manage. 

_**“Haha!”**_ Storm clouds gathered around the demon, malevolent and threatening as Mabel fought to regain control of her Afterscape. They surrounded her, spinning and tossing her, as the dream demon watched, growing in size until the ceiling shifted to accommodate him, and continued to cackle, making sure that the little sheep realized what a fool she was before the clouds sucked her screaming soul into a whirling vortex with one destination.

Six thousand years into the past.

 

It’s a strange feeling, waking up in a body after being reduced to energy. Limbs feel like tree trunks, a head feels like a boulder. There’s too much weight, moving is complicated; no longer controlled by simple thought but now requiring the added effort of blood pumping through veins, flexing muscles, bending bones.

Luckily, the strangeness quickly fades, replaced by the familiarity of live, as though waking up in a twelve year old body wasn’t too different from riding a bike. Except the bike is in the middle of a barren wasteland created by the demon trying to possess your brother and end the world as you know it.

Mabel took off running, the single-minded need to get Bill away from Dipper powering her legs, as well as the well wishes a very powerful demon. A demon that watched, grinning and unseen, from the sidelines.

It cheered as Mabel dived between Bill Cipher and her brother, rolled on the ground laughing when Bill entered her and she started to scream, and when she opened golden eyes, when she struggled to comfort her brother with words alone because she couldn’t touch him and no one else could see her, he gave her a jaunty salute with his bowler hat.

Alcor the Dreambender had finally been vanquished. And by the very Mizar he treasured above all others.

Now, even if Dipper Pines died tomorrow, he would die a human. Just as promised. And Mizar would know the loneliness so great it destroyed the unkillable, driving them mad until their brains grew bored of it and reached for sanity, just to driven back to madness again.

“Aren’t you lucky, Mizar?” Only time would tell how Mizar would differ from Alcor, but Tad Strange was certain that their new demonic sister would be so much more _**fun.**_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that was a blast. I don't know if the Afterscape is actually a thing, but for the purposes of this story it's where human spirits reside when they're in-between reincarnations. Spirits don't have mouths so they don't use words to speak so much as different shades of light and color. Even if a living human managed to enter the same plane of existence, they would have no idea what the spirit talking to them was trying to say, but a demon can understand them just fine. Mabel, in her spirit form, is kind of a sparkly pink cloud of puff. Which is why any and all attempts to be seen as intimidating garner the general reaction of "Aw, that's adorable."
> 
> Tad Strange is an odd one. I knew I'd seen a square demon before and I absolutely wanted him for this story... but I had no idea what his name was. Turns out he's from something called The Demonic Guardians Au? Just typed "transcendence au floppy disk demon" and he popped up. Lucky. 
> 
> I don't know anything about Tad Strange, so he ended up being sort of sadistic and rude like Bill, but he hates Alcor. And not because he liked Bill - he's definitely not a fan of Bill - he just hates Alcor because Alcor tells him what to do. And he has the power to make sure he does it. It's like having a sulky Batman boss you around for 6,000 years. Who wants to be bossed around by a sulky Batman?


	2. A New Demon

“Acacia, cut it out. Uncle Dipper said-“

Acacia spun away from the summoning circle at her feet, looking fierce in her flannel pajamas, her fingers flapping up and down like a duck bill and her voice pitched a few octaves higher as she mocked, “Blah, blah, blah… Uncle Dipper said this, Mom said that. Can’t you ever just lighten up and break the rules for once?”

Bristling, Hank replied, “When the consequences are having my face eaten off by a demon? Hm, let me think about that for a second… No!”

“Guys, shhhh.” Widow felt for her parents in the kitchen, touched their minds lightly so they wouldn’t notice. “I think they’re starting to get suspicious.”

It was really a harmless prank they were up to. Acacia had wondered aloud what would happen if they replaced Alcor's symbol with a shooting star, Mizar’s symbol, and it just sort of snowballed from there. It’d taken three days, but now they had a decent summoning circle hidden under the living room carpet. All it needed was three drops of blood.

Unfortunately, Hank wanted nothing to do with it. “I’m telling you, Acacia. This is going to end badly. What if it does summon Mom but it hurts her? What if it doesn’t and whatever we summon hurts _us_?” He distinctly remembered his dad telling him about two boys who tried to summon their mom with a similar circle and they wound up losing two limbs and an entire body for something that turned to not even be their mom. On his current list on possible undesirable outcomes, becoming a talking suit of armor was definitely number seven.

When he voiced that particular thought, Acacia brushed his concerns off with an airy wave. “You worry _way_ too much. If something goes wrong, we’ll call Uncle Dip to fix you up. Problem solved.” Brandishing a pin, she added, “Besides, you can’t tell me you’re not the least bit curious.”

Hank scowled. In all actuality, he was curious. He _did_ want to know, but if someone didn’t play the voice of reason to Acacia’s whims they could all end up lost in the Mindscape or hurtling through space. Twelve years of living with her for a sister had made certain that nothing surprised him.

So he studied the intricate summoning circle she’d drawn with chalk, tracing the lines with his eyes. Behind him, Willow swallowed hard, more nervous about pricking her finger than she was about possibly summoning a demon that wasn’t quite as kid-friendly as their uncle.

He glanced back at her as Acacia brought out some candles she’d hid behind the couch and positioned them around the circle, one eyebrow raised in a silent question. 

Willow shrugged, teeth tugging at her bottom lip as her too wide eyes stared back at him, “Mom’s a human, right?” Well, the answer to that question really depended on what her mood was. Even Uncle Dipper sometimes wondered if she was human at times. “So, let’s just do what Acacia says. It could be fun.” 

He should have guessed Willow would be converted to Acacia’s side. Still, she looked hopeful, excited, and if they really couldn’t do this without him… 

Sighing, Hank admitted defeat. Acacia squealed, running forward and wrapping her arms around his neck. “Yes! I knew you’d come around!” 

They gathered around the white octagram in the circle, each standing at a point, and pricked their fingers with a wince. For a while, the summoning circle remained inactive, the only movement in the room the flickering blue flames from the pink, glittery candles Acacia picked out for the ritual. Willow had lit them herself. After several years of private lessons with Uncle Dipper, something as small as lighting as candle was about as hard as moving a finger. 

Three drops of blood fell into the circle simultaneously, splashing on their symbols and soaking into the chalk. 

Hank sucked in a deep breath and held it onto it.

For a while, nothing happened. They waited, wondering if their mom was going to pop up in the middle of the circle at any second. Something crackled in the air, dark storm clouds gathered outside of the circle, outside of containment. 

It was too late to stop the ritual, though. If they stepped past the chalk lines or broke them, the demon wouldn’t need their permission to rip their throats out. 

Glowing eyes the color of melted gold peered down at them from the clouds,Hank opened his mouth to scream. Wha͖t͓͈͈͖͓͔͎ ̱̹̮͍̞̖̯d͖̜͎͉͠o̰̜̼̜͎ͅ ͔ͅý̙͇͇ou̢̲̳ t̵̘̲̰ͅh̞̗̬͉̗r̝̹͖̼̭̰ͅe̯͎̮ȩ̞̣̳̪͎̜ ̯̣͎t̮̭̭̟̱͠ͅr̺͎̹̰̜͟oub̥̱̠̰̲l̢̪̟̼e҉̣̫̤͓͖m̷a͔̳k̳er̟͠s͎͖̝͍ t҉͔̬̣̘̭͉͈h̙̩͇̳̳̬i̞̜͍̤̳̜n̟̼k͚̺͉͕ ̮͉̼̤͕y̸͕͕̹ou̴̘͈͔̲̟̜ͅ're doing?̩̟̯̬̞" 

And deflated. It was just Uncle Dipper. “How many times have I told you that messing around and summoning demons is dangerous?”

“But we summon you all the time, “ Willow pointed out, her chin tucked to her chest as she fidgeted under his stern gaze. 

Frowning, Dipper’s voice lost the demonic tremor. “And that’s dangerous, too, nibling. Out of all the demons, I am one of the least likely to ever, ever hurt you, but summoning me is _still_ a risk. And I need you to have as few of those in your lives as possible.”

Acacia crossed her arms, exuding attitude out of every pore. “We’re not babies, Uncle Dip. We can take care of ourselves.”

Raising a brow archly, Dipper replied, “Like that time you jumped off the roof and I had to catch you?”

Flushing at the memory of when she’d tried to see if she had powers like Willow, Acacia shot back, “I was a baby, then!”

“It was last week!” 

“I’ve grown up!”

The air around him thrumming with power, Dipper thundered, “O̢̨͡bvìo̴uşl̵̢y̧̢ ̸̛n̵̢ot͏̸!"

Acacia flinched back, stung, her lips pressed into a thin line. Fists clenched at her sides, she turned away from him. Dipper lowered himself to the floor, an apology waiting in his throat when the ground started to shake. A frantic glance at the floor revealed the circle was radiating a bluish glow.

Instinctively, he pulled the two niblings closest to him behind him, then reached out for Acacia. “Polaris!” he called out as the shaking increased and shortly before Mabel and Henry came tearing into the room. “Come on!” Ever the willful one, Acacia refused to move.

With a growl of frustration, Dipper moved to scoop her up when a sound like static filled the room. It was coming from the floor. 

_Hi,_ a cheerful, slightly distorted voice trilled, _you’ve reached the answering machine of Mizar the Gleeful. I might be a little busy at the moment, but please know that your time is important to me. If you need help with your homework, I’ll be with you in 5-10 minutes tops. If you need help taking over the world, it might be a while. If you’re planning on sacrificing a child or an infant to me, word to the wise: Do. Not. And if you've done it already…_ The voice dropped a few octaves as the demon crooned, _Stay right where you are. Don’t run. Don’t hide. You’ll just die tired._

Switching gears, the demon perked up so fast Dipper’s neck hurt, adding gleefully, _While you’re waiting, please enjoy the music._

There was a short period of humming where the adults in the room just blinked at each other, not sure what to think. Then Dipper suddenly recognized the tune. “Oh no.”

“What?” Henry asked, alarmed at his brother-in-law’s reaction. “What’s going on?”

“No no no no no. Someone make it stop.”

_Disco girl, coming through. That girl is yooooouuuuu._

It was on repeat. A never-ending repeat of Dipper singing Disco Girl. Mabel laughed so hard she snorted. “This is great!”

“It’s not great,” Dipper insisted, arms still wrapped around Hank and Willow, “It’s not great at all!” More than embarrassing, it was worrying. Here was a demon using his sister’s name and his voice from – actually he hadn’t sang that song in the bathroom since he was twelve. How did the demon get a hold of it? And why did he sound a least twenty?

_Mabel, is that enough? Can I stop singing now?_

Henry reached out to hold his wife’s hand as smoke the color of a fresh bruise issued out of the floor in streams, all centering in the summoning circle. Coalescing into a vaguely human shape with black skin cracked by golden light, something with three eyes and fangs that peeked from an unnaturally wide smile. 

The demon’s form continued to sharpen and define itself, leaving what appeared to be a longhaired young woman floating three feet above the ground. From her earlobes dangled two star-shaped earrings.

“W̥͈̠͟h͕̙̲͍̤o͈͟ d͡ą͚r̡̠e͓͓̦ ͖s͚͚̼̲̤su̡͉̹̟̼͉m̯̮̱͞m̴̫͔̥̞̯on̝͖͡ ̨̜̩̫ͅM̵͈ìź̻̲̯̝a͙̠r̻͉͔͇̭̱ t̘he̯̩͡ ̰̱͈G̨l͇e̛̮ẹ͍̬̗̫̫͢f̬̦͍̜͕u̢̯̖l?” The demon took in the room, the family, zeroing in on Acacia. “Was it you, Wild Star?” Stiff and pale, Acacia nodded. The demon narrowed her eyes, the smile falling from her lips. “Didn’t anyone ever teach you summoning demons is dangerous?” Acacia’s next nod was a little more frantic. Baring her teeth, Mizar snapped her fingers and Henry’s body fell out of his mouth.

Dipper snarled, enraged, as Mabel started to scream. Her husband still held her hand, but she could now see his bones, his muscles, all of his organs as they spilled from his stomach and onto the floor. Fruitlessly, he tried to catch some of his intestines. 

Mizar laughed, full and throaty like she’d just played a wonderful prank. “You see, kid? What did I tell ya? We’re dangerous.” 

The collections of veins and muscles burbled, trying to speak. Blood ran down from his head to his feet, spreading across the floor until it lapped at their shoes and soaked into the carpet. Willow started to cry. Quiet, frightened sobs shaking her small frame. 

“Henry, it’s okay. Don’t try to speak.” Mabel squeezed his hand. “D- I mean, Alcor can fix this.” Although she had the utmost faith in her brother, she locked gazes with him, waiting for some sort of confirmation. 

For whatever reason, the demon straightened at the name, tilting her head like a confused child. If it weren’t for the predatory grace with which she moved, the gesture would have come across as surprisingly human. 

Clenching his fists, Dipper nodded. After he’d taken care of the demon masquerading as his sister, he’d fix Henry. The magic wasn’t the result of a contract. It was impulsive, the equivalent of a magical tantrum. It was possible that he wouldn’t even need to orchestrate a deal to undo it. 

A string of muffled curses could be heard from the second floor as Stan stubbed his toe on the doorway due to his rush to get downstairs. “Hey!” He called down, still in his boxers and brandishing a pair of brass knuckles. “What’s going on? Is everybody- oh.” Since he saw a demon in his living room literally everyday, he took seeing two demons in his living room rather well. 

It was the state of his niece’s husband and the sight of Acacia trembling in the face of a giggling demon that sent him into rage. Roaring, he pounded down the stairs, almost as fast as he would have been where he twenty years younger. 

With a roll of her eyes and a snap of her fingers, the roaring came to an abrupt halt. Now standing dumbfounded next to a horrified Dipper, Stan pawed at the pasty white skin grown over where his mouth used to be. 

Pushing Hank and Willow towards Mabel, Dipper crouched low, growling, “Change them back! Now!” When Mizar swung away from Acacia to focus on the powerful demonic presence in front of her, Mabel crept towards her daughter, rage beating in her heart. 

The two auras clashed, each fighting for dominance of the space and magic in the room. Mizar had been summoned, but she had not fulfilled a contract. Alcor, on the other hand, was physically and psychically bound to the Shack and all the people in it. He’d fulfilled more contracts than he could count. 

The female demon hissed, backed into the furthest corner. “I can’t reenter the Mindscape until I’ve completed a contract. You know that.”

Jerking a finger towards Henry and Stan, Dipper said unsympathetically, “Here’s your deal. You turn those two back to normal, and I let you live.”

The female demon narrowed her eyes into glowing slits. “You’re not the one who summoned me.”

“Maybe not. But I’ll be the one who destroys you if you don’t take the deal.”

“Tough talk from a child.”

Dipper raised an eyebrow, astonished. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me. I’ve been around for millennia, you’ve barely been around for three decades.”

“I don’t see what’s so impressive about being an old lady,” Acacia grumbled, squeaking indignantly when the demon gave her a look that literally set her clothes on fire. Hank ran to pat her out. 

“Have I said ‘I told you so’ yet?” Hank muttered as the last of the flames died down, not really meaning for Acacia to hear it. She did, anyway.

“If you like your front teeth you probably shouldn’t.”

Mizar yawned. “Look, how about this.” Extending one, long finger in Alcor’s direction, she said, “You tell me your true name and I turn you friends back to normal.” Alcor bristled, his instincts screaming that it was a bad deal, a Bill deal. “Normally, since this is obviously your territory, I wouldn’t have answered the summons but…” Frowning thoughtfully, she finished, “Something about this place called to me.“

Unthinkingly, Mabel called out, “Don’t do it, Dipper!” 

Once she realized what she’d done, Mabel clapped her hands around he mouth with a quiet _eep!_ Dipper shot her a look of pure exasperation as he wondered just how much power the nickname held over him. It was an optimistic way of thinking, though. He’d known for ages that it was the name he responded to, the name his loved ones called him and the name he called himself that held power over his soul, not the name he was born with. 

Still, the false Mizar didn’t necessarily know that.

He chanced a glance at her as Stan kicked random objects in silent fury. This whole time she’d been practically giddy, now she stared at him, her back straight, and he felt fear rip through her like a buzz saw. 

“No,” she murmured. “You can’t be. I saved you. Dipper isn’t- He’s not – You’re not-“ Her smoke billowed past the lines of the summoning circle, confirming Dipper’s belief that she’d never been bound by it in the first place. He extended his claws, ready to take her down and undo the damage himself, when she slowly took in the disfigured forms of Stan and Henry with a horrified gasp. “Grunkle Stan? Henry?”

“That’s enough!” Dipper ran forward, grabbing her by the arms and slamming her against the wall. “Change them back… whatever your name is.”

Mabel called his name, something odd in her voice. He told her to stay back, then turned back to the demon to see she was shaking, golden tears falling from her eyes. Shocked, Dipper loosened his grip on her. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, the horror and guilt plain on her face as the black skin began to peel off. “I’ll change them back.”

Once the words were out, the collection of meat formerly known as Henry trembled, then his body flew back into his mouth. It was like watching an inside-out sock be pulled and righted, but Henry Pines was standing next to Mabel in seconds. Shaken, maybe, and definitely going to have nightmares, he still nearly swayed with relief when he realized he couldn’t see his heart beating anymore.

Cleaning up the floor and carpet was definitely going to be a problem, though.

Stan’s mouth reappeared like it'd been unzipped. He gasped in relief. “Never thought I’d be so happy to have this ugly mug back.” When no one said anything, he followed the direction of their open mouthed stares to see the demonic menace that terrorized his home turning into a little girl.

She couldn’t be more than twelve, big globs of tears rolling down her face and onto the back of Dipper’s hands as she apologized for scaring them, for hurting them. Looking at her, Stan saw Mabel, the way she was all those summers ago when she and her nerdy twin brother first came to live with him. 

Dipper was at a complete loss of what to do. He wanted to believe that this was just another trick, but now that she wasn’t focused on obscuring her energy; he felt a connection to her. It wasn’t as strong as his connection to the Mabel he knew, thanks to a filter that, he sensed, was some sort of time rift. 

On her head, he saw a top hat that resembled his own, and from her shoulder blades protruded two membranous wings. They matched great with her small dress suit, making her look like a lost child on Halloween, crying for her parents. 

“Mabel,” Dipper twisted his head around to see Mabel approaching them. He hissed at her, warning her not to get any closer. As per usual, she ignored him, “that’s your name, right?”

The female demon hiccupped a sob and nodded. Mabel smiled. “That’s my name, too. Isn’t it the best?” Uncertain, the female demon nodded her head more slowly this time. “Where’s your brother, sweetie?” She’d said she was older than Dipper by millennia, but there was a chance that whatever mixed up world she came from had its own version of Dipper. And Mabel knew that if she’d found herself in a strange place with familiar, unfamiliar people, she’d want her brother.

But Dipper was completely against letting his sister touch her. He picked the demon up when Mabel reached for her, holding the other Mizar just out of reach like he was playing keep-away with his sister’s favorite toy. 

Which he would never do because his sister’s favorite toy was Bear-O.

As Mabel lunged for the girl, complaining furiously that Dipper was being unfair, Willow giggled. Her two siblings looked at her, incredulous, as the quiet escape of air grew into full-blown laughter. 

After a while, Acacia joined in, pulling her siblings close, and they wrapped their arms around her, felt the way her body shook in their bones… because they’d been so, so afraid that they were going to lose her. 

“Let’s not do this again,” Hank muttered, relieved when his two sisters agreed quickly and vehemently to never try to summon anything that wasn’t Uncle Dipper ever again. 

After a while, Dipper gave in, letting his sister grab the little demon from his hands and soothe her. They found out that the other Mizar had distanced herself from her brother after their parents sent them packing to Gravity Falls.

“I wanted him to have a normal life,” she said. “He deserved that.”

Despite already knowing the answer, Dipper asked the question, “Did he ever stop searching for you?”

There was a short pause that stretched for an eternity.

“Never.” 

After his death at the ripe old age of one hundred and fifteen, she had to dive into the Mindscape just to avoid his ghost, and though his memories never stayed intact after reincarnation, all of the Alcors were born with a sense that something was missing from their lives. They searched shadows and corners, studied the supernatural with a fascination and obsession they couldn’t understand but rarely questioned. It was a full time job just keeping Alcor from dabbling in the wrong sort of magic, calling upon the wrong sort of demon. 

Despite her best efforts, some of them realized they were being protected, which always led to them purposely putting themselves in danger to try and drag her out of hiding. 

Eventually, the temptation became too great. She was forced to distance herself from the Alcors, only interfering in their lives when she sensed her bond wavering as their lives were threatened. 

Because she became a demon in his place, Dipper was able to marry, to have children, to live a long, safe life.

So why was it that, looking at the Dipper and Mabel in front of her, looking at what could have been, she had the terrible feeling that she’d made a mistake?

“Hey,” Mabel tucked the little demon under her chin as she gently stroked her hair, “it’s okay. Why don’t you stay with us for a little while?” Dipper opened his mouth to protest, then shut it with a click after Mabel gave him a stern look and mouthed, _Don’t make me get out Bear-O._

Still, this wasn’t a decision that could be left only to her. She had to check with the rest of her family to make sure it was okay. Henry shoved aside the remnant of his terror. Seeing the way Mizar was now, he guessed she had bad moments, same as his brother-in-law. 

And even if it felt a little emotionally manipulative, he couldn’t stay made at the little girl sniffing in his wive’s arms. He could barely even believe she was the same demon. 

With a grumpy huff, Stan scratched the back of his neck. “Can’t really say I blame ya for getting rid of my mouth. If anything, you’ve succeeded where many have failed and probably deserve a reward or somethin’.” Crossing his arms, he added, “My vote is she can stay for a little while, but if she starts pulling skulls outta people’s heads or scares the kids again there goes your housing privileges.” 

When Dipper didn’t say anything, Mabel said, “You know me, brobro. You know how much I love being around people. Is it really so hard to believe that thousands of years alone could turn me into someone you’d have a hard time recognizing?” 

No. It really wasn’t. Because that was one of Dipper’s greatest fears, a life without his sister, his niblings, his Grunkle, his brother. Could he hold onto his humanity when there was no one around to remind him he used to be human? That a part of him still was? If the other Mizar’s behavior was anything to go by, the answer was a resounding no. 

Reluctant and still a little dubious, Dipper agreed to keep an eye on the little demon. Starting now.

Drawing an indignant noise of complaint from both versions of his sister, he plucked the other Mizar up by her collar like a naughty kitten and carried her upstairs, where they were going to have a serious talk about self-control. 

“I’m thousands of years old,” she grumbled, kicking her feet half-heartedly.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ve heard it before.”

Once they were out of sight, though probably not out of earshot – being demons meant they were almost never out of earshot – and Grunkle Stan took the kids to go watch the new movie, Ducktective 2: Return of the Twin, Mabel sidled up next to her husband, concern evident in the way she held his arm.

He brushed a hand against her cheek. “I’m okay, Mabel.” He’d just spent so much time with a demon who went crazy for catnip and blushed whenever someone mentioned his ‘butt-wings’ and who sometimes got stuck in walls when he suddenly went corporeal, that he’d forgotten just how overwhelmingly and frighteningly powerful they could be. 

Sliding her hand over his, Mabel asked, “Does saying you’re okay mean you’re not really okay at all?” After a moment’s hesitation, Henry nodded. 

“Then I’m okay, too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're wondering why Mizar isn't rushing back to her own dimension, it's because Alcor's still an infant there. He doesn't start getting into mortal danger until he's at least seven.


	3. The End Of The Start

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _We must not look at goblin men,_   
>  _We must not buy their fruits:_   
>  _Who knows upon what soil they fed_   
>  _Their hungry thirsty roots?_

Despite its being occupied solely by Dipper, the attic had remained largely as Mizar remembered it. There were two twin beds, and a desk by the window. A pile of knitted sweaters in the corner spoke of Mabel’s continued presence, as well a game controller that likely belonged to Hank or Acacia, and a sketchbook filled with water colors. 

Alcor tossed her carelessly on the empty bed across from his, then sunk down onto his own, narrowed yellow slits never leaving the demoness as she jerked into a sitting position. 

If it had been any other demon intruding on his territory, threatening his family, he would have torn them apart and gleefully consumed their souls, already. Unfortunately, this particular demon hid behind his sister’s face, her mannerisms, her voice. Even the way she squealed and gushed over the pile of half-finished sweaters sitting in the corner was all Mabel. 

“What you did down there… you know I’ll have to destroy you if you do it again, right?”

Eyes like glowing lanterns stretched wide in her small, round face. Something like hurt flashed through them. Alcor hissed under his breath.

Recovering quickly, the demoness flicked some of her hair out off her forehead and crossed her arms, apparently far too interested in glaring at the wall to be bothered with him. 

For once, despite all his knowledge, Alcor didn’t know what to do. His instincts reeled at upsetting Mizar even as he repeatedly reminded himself that this wasn’t her. It wasn’t. 

“I didn’t mean to,” came the eventual, barely audible response from out of the demon’s mouth, “I thought it was a couple of kids that needed a lesson. Summoning demons – summoning me is dangerous. They needed to know that.“ She flashed an inappropriate grin. “And it’s been a while since the last time I was summoned. Guess I just wanted to have some fun.”

Even with the audacious smile on her face, Alcor wasn’t fooled. She looked almost frighteningly harmless, all huddled up and hugging her slender frame like she was fighting off a chill. She didn’t seem afraid. Not of him, at least. Part of him wanted to fix that.

Alcor ran his fingers through a lock of his hair, thinking. “Look, it doesn't seem like you tried to hurt my family on purpose, so I think I’m going to cut you some slack.” Mizar – the demon swiveled to look at him, so hopeful it was like staring at his sister back when they were kids. His chest ached at the thought. “Get out of here. Don’t come near me or my family again and we won't have a problem.”

And if he’d just stolen candy from a child, he probably would have felt prouder of himself than he did when the blooming hope withered, replaced by the absolutely crushed expression Mabel usually reserved for Sweater Town. 

Dealing with demons wasn’t supposed to make him feel like a terrible person.

“That’s what I’d like to say,” he huffed. “But my sister wouldn’t be happy with me if I kicked you to the curb. Why don't you try explaining how you ended up like this? I can’t promise I’ll believe you,” he’d been burned too many times for that kind of blind trust to be possible, “but I’ll try to keep an open mind.” He bared his fangs in an inhumanly wide smile, his golden irises burning with flames that leaked from his sockets as the words that slid from his lips reverberated through the room with enough malice to dim the lights and lower the temperature. “Word to the wise? Don’t lie to me. Don’t even try.” 

She stared at him in stunned silence for a solid minute, then threw back her head, opened her mouth, and started laughing so hard her body shook with the force of it. “Oh my gosh, you’re threatening me! It’s been such a long time I’d almost forgotten what it was like.” While she laughed, Alcor had a clear view of her own set of glittering fangs. Between that and her flippant attitude, he nearly gave in to the urge to snarl. But snarling among demons was tantamount to declaring war. If you were willing to take the threats from verbal to guttural, to call on the natural thirst for violence that flowed through their essence, then you had to be willing to act on it. Fast. 

He didn’t know this demon. He didn’t know her power or her temper, but the little display downstairs and the corporeal body sitting in front of him suggested she was at least as powerful as he was. 

Still, her laughter felt like an insult. Didn’t she understand he could rend her into a million pieces if it pleased him? Paint the walls with her blood and-

No. Those weren’t Dipper thoughts. Those were Bill thoughts – demon thoughts - they were dangerous and they had to _stop._

He hadn’t noticed how long he’d been silent. When he refocused on girl-shaped demon, all traces of her previous mirth were gone, something wet and sparkling sliding down her cheek. “I’ve seen you live this. And I’ve seen you live a normal life. And I honestly don’t know which is better. Was saving you the right thing to do? Did I really even save you?”

What? How was he supposed to know that? What was she talking about?

“Mi- You’re not making any sense. What are you talking about? Look, just start from the beginning, okay? I’ll listen. I’m listening.” 

She tilted her head to the side, confusion digging deep into her mind. “Why don’t you know? Can’t you see my form in the Mindscape?”

Oh. Well, he was going to do that. Eventually. Seeing his brother-in-law turn into an assortment of sausages and lunchmeat had made it a little hard to think.

Now that he had his head on a little straighter, he focused on opening his third eye. Two things immediately became apparent. The first was the tenuous connection he felt between their souls, like an echo heard after the fifth or sixth reverberation, so subtle it could almost pass unnoticed. The second was the yellow aura melded into the vaguely pink aura of – Mabel. This was Mabel. This was his sister. She was eternal, an existence that transcended time, mortality, sickness, weakness, and she was everything he hated about himself, about what he'd become.

Then a blast went off in his head. He didn’t remember standing, let alone crossing the room in one long stride, but she was backed up against the wall, her back arched like a cat’s, and he was inches away from her face, breathing like he’d traveled halfway across the world just to lean in close and hiss, “Wa͕̤ş̭̭̳̹̠̪̝ ̗it B̬̟̙̝̦͉̀i̞l̹͖̥͖̻̠̪͠l?̱̱̮̖̤̱”

And there’s fear. It’s a beacon, the smell sharp in the air, like smoke. Then there’s hatred, pure, all consuming the way an emotion so strong is for demons like them. But that isn’t what makes Alcor want to let loose. To burn and burn and burn until Bill was stripped from time and space like the ugly stain he was. No. It’s the guilt she can’t hide because it's soaking her heart, like Bill tricking her, turning her into this, was somehow her fault. “I'l͞l ̵r͢i͝p͡ hi̧m̕ ̕apa͜r̡t.” It didn’t matter that this was a different Mizar. There was not one Mabel in any time or dimension that deserved to have their mind and hearts twisted into something dark, bloodthirsty, monstrous. And if he had to tear open a rift between the dimensions with his teeth, he was going to-

_“Dipper!”_

He snapped out of it, shocked to see his hands gripping hard around her shoulders. He stumbled backwards, an apology springing forth automatically, “Oh my gosh! Mabel, I’m so-“

She cut him off with a short, “Don’t. I’m fine.” And while she worked on massaging the throbbing sensation out of her arms, Alcor collapsed on his bed, keeping his distance now. He waited for her to acknowledge him, but her silence and closed off posture seemed to suggest she was deliberately shutting him out. 

All at once, he was overwhelmed with the sense that he really didn’t know anything about her. It was inevitable, really, that he’d feel disconnected. If she was the result of a divergence in the dimensions that took place on their thirteenth summer, then they only shared twelve years of years of memories. What were twelve years to a demon?

She might not know him, might not trust him. He wasn’t her Alcor, and the Mizar he knew was an open book. Why wouldn't this Mizar tell him what happened to her?

“Because I’m afraid.” She answered, as though the question were written on his forehead and not hidden in his thoughts. “I left you before because I didn’t want to put you or your family in danger. What if I tell you what you want to know and something happens?” This wasn’t her family. It wasn’t. It was his and she didn’t belong in it.

Alcor exhaled long and slow, the sound irritated, exhausted, and so painfully human. “It sounds to me like you’re making a lot of decisions for me and I really don’t appreciate it.” 

The temperature dropped, a new fissure ran through the window, filling the silence in the room with sound of cracking glass. Mizar’s lips parted in a silent gasp. She clenched her palms into fists, some harsh and venomous retort waiting to be spat out, but it was Alcor’s turn to cut her off. “Did I ever ask for a normal life? Did I even want one?”

Whatever Mizar had planned to say died on her tongue. It was never about what he wanted, she argued for the millionth time; it was about keeping him safe. But, was that right? She’d wanted him to be happy, but he’d spent the rest of his life looking for her. Not even losing his memories through the reincarnation cycle had stopped Dipper’s search. It was as endless as she was. 

Was putting his life and soul in danger worth his happiness?

Alcor watched her face for a solid minute, tracking her thoughts through her expressions, and when he finally saw her settle on doubt, he said something Mabel had told him not too long ago, “It’s my life, isn’t it? Shouldn’t it be up to me whether or not you’re in it?”

When she refused to speak again after that, choosing instead to pull the sheets over her head and childishly ignore him, he excused himself, figuring she needed some time to process. 

Once she was sure he was gone, Mizar flopped onto her side, her head smooshing the pillow with a satisfying whump. It smelled like her, still. Human her. The her that played board games with Dipper and knitted colorful sweaters for grumpy gnomes, happily married goats, and hopelessly dim fairies in her spare time.

The her that hadn’t seen more violence, more evil done than she cared to remember, but couldn't bring herself to forget. Because her mind was a prison. Monsters screamed and slammed against the bars when she closed her eyes. For once, it was nice not to see them when she opened them, too.

Pretty soon, though, she’d have to return to her dimension. Dipper was a handful no matter who he reincarnated as, and if history proved anything, he’d start subconsciously putting himself in danger to draw her attention in a few years. 

For now, though… maybe staying in Gravity Falls wouldn’t be such a bad thing? 

She opened her eyes to see she’d slipped out of the physical plane. Mentally shrugging because three drops of blood – even the blood of a relative - could only last so long, she let them fall closed again. Sleep. If she just let her mind wander, maybe she could finally… 

A buzzing like a thousand flies filled her ears and she jolted upright to find herself an inch away from a giant, white eye with a flat, elongated pupil. 

“Hey there, Shooting Star! It’s been long time since I’ve seen you in this form. Feeling nostalgic, are we?” Without bothering to wait for her response, which likely wouldn’t have been appropriate for a house filled with children, he hovered closer to the door Alcor had recently strode through. “That Alcor’s like a cockroach, isn’t he? Squash one and another comes crawling out of the woodworks.” He cackled at his own joke.

“Tad,” she growled, the sound guttural, permeated with a deep-seated sense of loathing. There was a time when the mere sight of him would provoke her into setting anything nearby on fire, but she wasn’t going to do that in Alcor’s home. She was not going to give in to her temper, lose control, and stand by as bubbling tar oozed from the walls in rivers and stretches of yarn slithered down the stairs. “What do you think you’re doing here?” 

“Oh, just sightseeing. Would you believe me if I told you I’m a fleshstick in this dimension? Talk about irony, am I right? I mean, wow, the guy makes white bread look fascinating. Great voice, though. I could listen to me talk for days! Hey, question for a friend, how long do you think a human can survive in a birdcage?”

A blue flame engulfed Mizar’s hands. The tips licked at Tad Strange’s feet, expelling a puff of smoke as they singed them, and he tumbled backwards, putting some much needed distance between them.

“Ah, jeez. It’s always business with you, isn’t it? You’d think a few thousand years of terrorizing humanity would lighten a girl up… “ A scowl crackled through blackening skin. “Right then. So, I can’t help but notice you haven’t taken Alcor out yet. Care to explain?”

Mizar blinked, bewildered and more than a little irritated, which was exactly the way Tad Strange wanted her. Unbalanced. “You want me to kill him?! The whole reason I agreed to your deal was so I could _save_ him!”

The square-shaped demon moved its slender arms in what could pass for a shrug. “I don’t see what the problem is. All I’m asking is for you to kill a demon. “ With a wink, he added, “It's not like you haven't done worse.” 

She shook her head. “No. This goes directly against our deal. You can’t make me do this.”

“Au contraire. The deal was your brother died a human. Breaking the deal would be allowing him to live as a demon. And you’re a demon, sweetheart. Do you think you can go back on a deal?” With his eye bulging so far out of his square body it funneled to a point, the demon grew until it loomed over her, curving from the floorboards to the ceiling. “Do you think I’d let you?”

And while a normal deal would merely strip away a negligible amount of the demon’s power if it were broken, this deal was the foundation upon which Mizar existed. Without it, Mizar the Gleeful, the Dissonant, the Discordant, would cease to exist. The dimensions, the fates split and twisted and changed by the deal would rejoin, and she would be forgotten, erased. Who could remember what never happened?

Only the demon that initiated the deal. 

Dipper’s life with his wife, his four children, his reincarnations. How many did he have now? How many lives had she observed, watching, hovering, but never touching. How many times had she longed to reach for him, to tell him she had never left his side? If that dimension was reabsorbed, everything she’d ever done would amount to nothing. _She_ would amount to nothing. 

But Tad Strange would remember. He could try again. 

“Come on,” he cajoled, satisfied with the terror creeping into the aura of his favorite plaything, “You think Alcor would hesitate to kill you? You’re not his sister. You’re just an eyesore. Kill him and your precious sibling can keep living his dumb, oblivious human life.” Deciding to go for one last push, he finished with, “ Come on, Shooting Star. It’s what he’d want.”

Her head snapped up as Alcor's own words roared to the forefront of her mind. “What do you know about what he wants? Unless he tells me, I don’t even now what he wants. And I’m his sister! You’re just an outdated piece of technology with a Charlie Chaplin fetish! So, you can undo our deal, erase me if you want but - and correct if I’m wrong, which I’m not - the whole reason you need me is because Alcor is too strong for you. Otherwise, you’d just kill him yourself!” She sat back, grinning from ear to ear as the dream demon quivered with bottled rage. If these were her last thoughts, her last moments in existence, then ticking off the demon that had incessantly tried to strip her of her humanity and control her was probably one of the best ways to spend it. 

“Fine. Be that way. I’m curious to see if your daughter will be as disgustingly noble.” Before Tad could make good on his threat, the shadow pooled under the door stretched across the floor, lifting itself as an inky, viscous mass that coalesced into the shape of a man in a dress suit, with a sharp-toothed grin that promised misfortune and chaos to anyone or anything on its receiving end. 

Consequently, it was directed solely at the demon shaped like a floppy disk. “Tad Strange, huh? I have to admit, this is a surprise. I’ve never heard of you. You must not be very powerful.”

While bobbing in an unsteady, agitated manner, Tad grumbled in reply, “Just because I’m smart enough not to fly under your radar doesn’t mean I’m weak, kid.”

“No… But it does mean you’re weaker than me.” It was a taunt, plain and simple. Calling other demons weak was a surefire way to pick a fight, especially those as driven by their egos as Bill Cipher or, Alcor suspected, Tad Strange. 

After a short moment of turning fire engine red, Tad inflated himself, then deflated, giving the illusion of breathing deeply. Since the Mindscape was a purely imagined realm, though, the air still moved as though he had sucked it down. “Why are you even protecting her, huh?” He tried to reason. “Do you have any idea what she’s done? Kid, I could tell you stories-“

“Oh, don’t bother. She’s murdered cultists. She’s set up a few karmic deals for humans that deserved them. She’s even taken out a few demons for you, because you know her weak spot and you use it against her at every opportunity. And maybe every now and then, she slips. Because she gets lonely, and she only has you for company so her moral compass doesn’t exactly point North all the time, but at her heart she’s good. She looks after me.” Turning his back on the blue demon, his next words were meant only for Mizar. His Mizar from another sky. “We look out for each other.” It was true in any dimension. They’d always look out for each other. “Now, if you have anything else to say before I consume your soul, make it quick.” He winked. “I hate boring stories.”

Yep. Every now and then, omniscience and common sense had their perks.

Especially when combined with a well honed ability to bluff. 

Out of moves and out of patience, Tad Strange leapt at Alcor the Dreambender, who snatched him out of the air with practiced ease, ripped him in half, and offered some to the girl sitting on his bed with a satisfied smirk. Sharing was caring, after all.

Smiling tenderly, she declined. “He’d probably upset my stomach, anyway. I only eat sweet things, and he looks pretty bitter.”

With a shrug, Alcor stuffed the demon down his throat, then made a disgusted face. “Bleh. You’re right. Definitely bitter.”

 

Once the confusion of what to call her was settled, Mizar became the honorary crazy aunt of the Pines family. She swore on her soul never to perform harmful magic on or in front of any of them again, but Alcor didn’t see a problem with an inverted squirrel every now and then. They made great gifts. 

As it turned out, having an older demon around made life a little easier. The niblings had two protectors at all times, Alcor had someone to speak to, someone to coach him through the aftermath of his Brain Dumps, to fight him down when the fear and panic and the overwhelming power made him violent, but Mizar knew there were some paths she could not alter. Time and space had a funny way of resisting change. Sometimes, when you stopped one bad thing, worse things happened. Rather than risk that one day he would not be there when Acacia needed him, Mizar stayed her hand, allowing the Woodsman to come burning into the world.

And though Henry insisted she had a good reason, Alcor couldn’t bring himself to trust her the way he had before. It stung, seeing him look at her and wonder if there was really enough of his sister left for him to believe in.

A long time ago for both of them, she’d asked for his trust, something Dipper never gave away lightly. She asked for it “just this once” and he’d given it to her to keep for eternity. 

Losing it hurt more than anything she’d ever felt. Had she been younger, she would have done anything to regain it, but she couldn’t stay in Alcor's dimension forever. She didn’t have the time.

Not when her own Alcor was getting ready to jump out of a tree. 

“So, you’re really leaving, huh?” Despite everything, he was saddened to see her go. No one else could keep up with him on a Smile Dip high the way she could. In fact, Smile Dip was now banned from the Mystery Shack until the end of time.

“Yeah, my Twin Star’s a troublemaker. He’ll get in over his head and I don’t show up to lend a helping hand. Or break something,” she noted ruefully as her fingers plucked at the World’s #1 Aunt sweater Mabel had knitted for her as a going away present. 

Alcor chuckled, his golden eyes drifting to where his sister was tickling Acacia and Willow and going soft as roasted marshmallows, “Yeah, I know the feeling.” Attention once more on her, he added, “You’re welcome to come back, though. If you ever want to hang or something.”

The offer was probably more polite than anything, but she promised to consider it. After all, knowing what would happen in eighty years or so, it would be cruel to leave him on his own. Also, in that same amount of time, she’d be grieving, too. 

Once she’d given her most of her adopted family a hug, she crossed the room to give Acacia a quick kiss, and though she’d chosen a form that imitated the height and maturity Alcor sported as he imitated Mabel - not including that one time they fought over who was taller by gradually increasing their height until they found themselves ducking to avoid crashing through the ceiling and Henry made them stop - she was still surprised to find she had to float a few inches above the ground to peck her on the cheek. Acacia. Brave, kind Acacia. The girl she’d frightened so badly that first day, the one who would soon be on a path so much darker and so much more wondrous than she could ever dream. And Acacia flung her arms around her, squeezing hard and tight. “I don’t regret it,” she whispered fiercely. “I don’t regret summoning you here. I’d do it again if I could.”

And Mizar melted in her embrace, her voice going fond and tender. “Hold on to that fire, not-so little one. Let it guide you in dark times. Always remember how loved you are and you’ll never be lost.”

“I love you, too, Auntie Mizar.” And her two beautiful eyes upturned in a smile.

Mizar drew in a harsh breath, glistening tears threatening to dribble down her cheeks, and suddenly she realized she was staring at her own face. Big brown eyes, wide and concerned, steady hands cupped and warm on her skin. 

“Don’t you worry about us,” Mabel said reassuringly, “We can handle things from here. You just go take care of your Dipdop, okay? I’m sure he’s been missing you.”

Standing by the doorway a few feet behind Mabel, Stan said, “See ya, sweetie.” He crossed his arms, staring straight at her. His gravelly voice, she noted, was slightly more gruff than usual when he added, “It doesn’t matter where ya go, what ya look like, or where you’re from, you’ll always be welcome here. No niece of mine’s gonna go out into the world without a home to return to.” Silently, he added words meant only for her, _I know you had your reasons for not interfering. Everything you’ve done since you got here, you’ve done for this family, even if we didn’t always understand it. Way I see it, I owe ya a little trust._

With a strangled cry, she ran into his arms. The force of her crashing into him knocked the breath from his lungs but he recovered quickly, his arms around her were safe, crushing, suffocating, life giving. “I’m going to miss you, Grunkle Stan.”

“Ah, come on, kid. Don’t talk like we’re never going to see each other again. You never know what the future’ll bring.” He wiped her tears away. “Smile for me, Mabel.” Trembling, she tugged her wobbling lips up in the most natural, most human expression he’d ever seen from her. Satisfied, he huffed, “That’s my girl.”

Giggling, Mabel rushed to join them, wrapping herself around the two of them until Stan chuckled and the kids and Henry took their cue to join in. It was hot in the center of so many beating hearts. Sweltering and noisy, with the thoughts of her family making themselves known in voices that talked over each other and feelings that melded into something fuzzy and all encompassing. 

It was overwhelming. 

It was everything. 

But though she was a demon of many talents, freezing time wasn’t one of them. The moment ended the way all moments do, and Alcor gestured for her to follow him up the stairs. Tossing one last smile over her shoulder, she waved goodbye to the happiest, brightest family she’d ever known. A family full of stars. 

“It’s been fun, Mizar.” Alcor said once they’d torn the rift open, shifting awkwardly when she raised an eyebrow at the less than sincere farewell. “Well, what do you want me to say?”

“You told Tad Strange you believed I was good, that I looked after you. Were you lying?” 

“I have a hard time imagining Mabel doing what you did. Henry shouldn’t have had to draw on my power. You could have helped.”

She shook her head. “Someday, you’ll realize you need the Woodsman. You’re strong,” she stroked his cheek tenderly, biting down on her lip in quiet surprise when he leaned against her palm instead of pulling away or brushing her off, “probably even stronger than me. But you’re not invincible, brobro. You can’t be everywhere at once. And if I’m going to be taking care of my Alcor, then I need to know that when the time comes, when you can’t help everyone that screams your name in the dark, that you don't find yourself alone.”

She spoke like that, sometimes. Like she was dodging the answer to an unasked question. Whenever she spoke like that, Alcor was forcibly reminded of Bill. With her gone, the only demonic thing left in the house to remind him of Bill Cipher was...

Closing his eyes, he muttered, “Will you come back?”

Instead of answering, she smiled for him, the glitter-coated letters on her black and gold sweater sparkling and iridescent in the glow of the rift. Then there was pressure, a pop in the air, a crackle, a spark, and she was gone. 

Before closing the rift, Alcor peered past the swirling lights to see a leathery banyan tree with glossy green leaves, and a little girl, no older than seven, swaying precariously on one of the higher branches. As he watched, a dark mass began to form under the branch, and he found himself lingering. 

Well, it’s not like a quick peek ever hurt anyone.

 

Ever since she could remember, Arundhati had dreamt of a girl crying all by herself, but no matter how many times she called out to her, she never turned around. Her parents told her it was just a dream, a phase that she’d grow out of eventually, but she didn’t want to grow out of it. Something or someone was missing, and deep down she was sure that if she could just convince that girl to talk to her, she’d know what it was. 

So, she decided to get her attention. 

The banyan tree was a few blocks down from her house, by the lake her father used to fish in before he decided to join the moon colony. Now that he wasn’t around to draw her into games or puzzles, and her mother was often too busy to keep an eye on her, there was nothing to distract her from experimenting with her theory. 

Granted, she wasn’t entirely sure how jumping out of a tree would grab the attention of a girl in her dreams, her thoughts had just happened to graduate in that direction, but it felt like it would work. Her gut told her it would.

Although, standing fifteen feet above the ground with the wind whipping her long black hair around her head, she couldn’t help but feel a bit foolish. “This is dumb,” she said out loud, deciding the stunt wasn’t going to result in anything except another injury she’d have to lie to her mom about. 

Before she made to the end of the branch, her foot slipped on a patch of loose bark. She scrambled to grab hold of the branch but it scraped under fingers and she couldn’t see the ground rushing up to meet her with her back facing it, but she knew it was going to hit any second and she squeezed her eyes closed…

“Woah! Are you alright?!” 

Arudhati couldn’t believe it. She was okay. She wasn’t hurt. She was alive!

And looking down at her, concern and amusement warring over her pretty features, was the girl from her dreams. “I’ve been waiting for you.” The words popped out of her mouth; accusing and hurt in a way she felt in her bones but didn’t completely understand. “Why didn’t you ever turn around?”

At her words, the girl looked like she wanted to cry, and Arundhati flailed as she desperately tried to undo the damage. Ignoring her flustered apologies, the girl told her, “I’m so sorry, Alcor. I was lost for a long time, but I’m here now. I’m never going to leave you again.”

This made Arundhati exceptionally happy, even if her name wasn’t Alcor and the apology didn’t make any sense. For the first time, she didn’t feel the urge to throw pillows around or check under her bed for the missing thing, which meant she must have found it. Found her. Grinning, she climbed down from the girl’s arms and grabbed her hand. “What’s your name? Where are you from? How’d you get here?” She did a double take when a shadow peeked out from behind the girl’s back, ducking quickly out of sight when noticed. “What was that?”

The girl giggled, sounding simultaneously younger and older than she looked, as though the laughter or the body didn't quite fit her. “As curious as ever, I see. Well, you can call me Mizar, if you like. Or Vasistha. That’s the word for Mizar here, right? Either is fine.”

Sucking in a breath, Arundhati’s eyes went wide. In her culture, Vasistha and Arundhati were married; the twin stars a symbol of closeness newly married couples aspired to. 

Gauging her reaction closely, Mizar sensed shock, leading her to wonder if the child had recognized her as the fearsome dream demon from the rumors surrounding her exploits, then she sensed a grudging acceptance. Huh. That was fast. Maybe meeting with Dipper’s reincarnation wouldn’t be as horribly awkward as she feared. 

“Are you my betrothed? Amma said I'd have one eventually.” The girl asked with an exasperated sigh, like finding out she was arranged to marry the girl she’d always dreamt of was the same as being told playtime was over. Or that the hologram generator she’d gotten for Christmas didn’t come with its own nuclear power source.

Mizar’s jaw dropped. “What?!” She stuttered. “B-betrothed? No! When did- I’m not – Listen, I’m _not_ -“ She cut herself off at the sound of choking coming from over her head. Looking up, she noticed Alcor was still peering through the rift, caught between cracking up and dying of embarrassment. 

As much as she wanted to tell him off for spying on her, she focused instead on explaining to the girl dragging her by the hand that she wasn’t her betrothed. She was her friend. “And if it’s okay with you, I’d like to be a part of your life.”

Arundhati grinned, wide and fierce, as the grip she had on Mizar’s hand tightened. 

It was the best answer in the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Mizar! If you ever find yourself doubting again, I want you to remember this moment. Remember how right I always am!”
> 
> “Close the rift and go home, you giant dork!"


End file.
